What The Heart Wants
by xXxDay-ZxXx
Summary: Hazel Wolfe's life is a complete and total mess - she's in love with the most popular guy in school, and he's with with the head cheerleader, her best friend is in love with her and she has mixed feelings for the new boy... whatever is she going to do?
1. Twinkle Toes

'

**Hey guys! :) I worked really hard on this one, slaving to make it as long as possible… it's the 18/5 at the moment and I've been working on this for a fair few weeks… teehee :) I hope you like it – I've wanted to do a story like this for a long time but put it off because I didn't know if I could actually pull a plot like this off! Tell me if I'm doing alright!**

**Daisy**

* * *

Chapter One

Love is supposed to be everything any girl has ever wanted; you feel all warm and gooey inside, everything makes sense, but most of all – you have a man on your arm. I have all of the above – except the man on _my_ arm.

Fingers snapped in front of my face, tearing me suddenly from my thoughts and back to my art class. For a second I stared in shock at the few vicious lines slashed across the piece of paper held onto my easel with bulldog clips.

"You okay, Elle?"

An exasperated sigh left my lips as I turned to face the smug smile on Josh's face, his grey eyes sparkling beneath his brown hair that dangled over them, and I smacked his shoulder as hard as I could – he probably didn't even feel it.

"My name is _Hazel_, Joshua. Hazel. Say it with me - Haaazeeelll."

"I'll call you Hazel if you call me Josh."

"No you won't," I huffed and picked up my stick of charcoal again. "You lie."

"Damn," Josh pouted, placing his chin on my shoulder. "You know me too well, Elle."

I snorted. "See?"

"Damn." He said again before going back to his own easel, which was only half a step away from mine. We were supposed to be doing a charcoal drawing of what we most wanted or what inspired us; Josh was drawing himself, sitting on a throne with a crown on his head, the throne standing proudly on a huge mound of money, whereas I was drawing a bird flying across the wide open sky - I'd always wanted to fly.

"You're so full of it." I scoffed as his drawing as I tried to soften the harsh lines I'd drawn deeply into my paper and actually make it look like a bird – it wasn't going well.

Josh actually looked kind of offended. "Hey, I can't be the only person in this art class that wants to draw themselves rich – I'm the only one with the balls do actually do it."

My nose scrunched up in disgust. "Josh, I really didn't need that mental image."

Being the annoying male he was, he grinned and thrusted his hips, rubbing his own chest, giving me a saucy look. "You know you want this, Elle."

"I wouldn't touch you with a ten foot pole, Owens," I resisted the urge to throw my smudging cloth at him. "Why don't you just get a girlfriend?"

For a second he stood there, shocked at my sudden and rather blunt question, before pulling his bravado firmly back into place. "They're all the same, Elle – all except you. And I'm not going to have another girlfriend until we've at least had a date."

I made a resigned face at him. "Josh, you know I'm with Spencer."

His eyes narrowed, his hands balled into fists – his charcoal crushed easily in his hand, leaving a shocking black smudge – and anger radiated off of him. "You're not with him. He's with someone else."

My teeth ground together. "Josh, please, don't…"

He ran a hand through his hair, before cursing when he got the charcoal all the way down to his scalp. Sighing, I took his clean hand and dragged him over to the sink that was once bright and silver, but was now covered in a million different shades of colours. Pulling a stool over, I sat Josh down and pushed his head down into the sink. Turning the water onto a soft warm, my foot pushed on the leg of the seat so he moved forward and the liquid sank into the strands of his hair. I slowly massaged his scalp, running my fingers through his locks; the sink was quickly filling with chunks of charcoal, but I continued until I was sure there was no more.

There was a large garbage bag beside the sink that was full of old fabric items; pillow cases, t-shirts, towels – even socks. Taking a towel and making sure that I'd squeezed as much water from Josh's hair as I could, I sat him up and began drying it off.

"You know…" he began and I paused so he could speak without me jostling his head about. "My face is directly lined up to your breasts."

I waded up the damp towel and threw it in his face. "Dry your own damn hair." I rolled my eyes and stamped back over to my easel, even though I was trying not to laugh and hiding a smile at his stupid, predictable antics.

* * *

After being held back at my last class because of someone being an idiot – cough, Josh, cough – I was completely alone in the hall as I closed the door of my locker. Just as I was about to turn around, arms were on my waist, spinning me around and then pressing my back against the cold, hard steel. I gasped in shock, my eyes widening, and then I relaxed when I saw who it was.

"Spencer…" My hand went up and cupped his cheek as I stared into those endless green eyes. "You scared me…"

He chuckled, a playful smirk teasing the corners of his soft, luscious lips. "Good scared, right?"

"Is there any other kind with you?" I couldn't help but grin as I wrapped my arms around his neck, my elbows resting on his firm shoulders. His gaze was hypnotic, his hands wide as they encircled my waist, his abdominal muscles strong and hard, pressing against my stomach – you just had to look at Spencer to tell that he worked out at least five times a week.

My lips immediately fell into a scowl as I saw him glancing at his wrist and pushed against his chest; he was far superior to me in the strength department, but he had the decency to step back.

"You're meeting up with Candy, aren't you?"

He winced, but wasn't surprised – I'd become far too accustomed to his little nervous ticks and quirks as he tried to think of an excuse to leave without simply telling me 'I need to leave you now so I can go have sex with my girlfriend, but I'll be at your house later and then I'll have sex with you.'

Candy Ashleydale was perfect in every way – slim, perfect breasts, golden curls to her waist, hazel eyes, the face of an angel, a prime spot on top of both the cheerleader pyramid and the high school status ladder.

Spencer Ward was the quarterback of the school football team, with a chiselled jaw, cheekbones so defined they were rumoured to be able to cut paper, muscles so intense and drool worthy that he looked like a descendant of The Hulk, blonde hair to die for and green eyes so deep you could fall into them.

Spencer and I had been together for almost two years – he had taken my virginity, but I was fairly sure he was no virgin when we first made love. We'd been in love from pretty much the start, and there was only one thing standing in the way of us being known and exclusive to the school – his girlfriend, Candy.

When I'd first transferred to Buckston Academy, I hadn't known that Spencer was with someone, and he'd asked me out, which resulted in my immediate affirmative answer. We went out for a few months or so before he finally told me about Candy.

At first, I was appalled – how could he just blatantly ask me out when he had a girlfriend? – but then he explained to me how horrible and selfish Candy was, how she picked on the sophomores and freshman, made a lot of people's lived a living hell, including his own. He'd told me that he wanted to leave her for me, and after a few days consideration, I agreed that I'd be with him while I waited for him to cut her loose – I'd been waiting for Spencer for twenty-two months, and he was still with her.

"Hazel, baby…" Spencer cupped my cheek. "You know I love you… I just need the right time to leave Candy, and it'll be just you and me…"

I closed my eyes tightly for a few seconds; I'd been envisioning that perfect moment when he finally came to me, pulled me close and told me that he'd broken up with Candy, before kissing me with all the love in the world – and for some reason, I couldn't let go of that; I'd been craving it for too long to give it up now.

"Okay…" I slowly nodded and nuzzled my face into his chest, inhaling his smell. I'd always loved the smell of his aftershave – sharp and manly. "Go on then…" I stepped back again and looked at him, hoping my eyes told him what I was thinking; '_Please, break up with her today_.'

Spencer's eyes quickly darted away from mine and he let out a heavy breath. After a quick check of the empty hallway, he leaned in and gave me a deep, slow, loving kiss – the kind I always loved, so much better than quick pecks because he was scared we'd get caught. I pressed myself closer, making the kiss last as long as possible before he pulled away and gave me a sexy smile that always made my knees weak.

"See you, love." He kissed my temple, and then sauntered off down the hallway.

I bit my lip and gave his back a half-hearted wave. "Bye…"

* * *

After school I went down to Mountain Ridge's only dance studio; having one at all seemed like a huge achievement, seeing as we only had two restaurants, four cafes and a single bookstore. It was nestled at the end of the street that led out of town and only a five minute walk from Buckston.

The building may have been painted once – the only evidence of that is small amounts of white, peeling paint – but it was almost all just normal red bricks. One of the stained glass windows had been smashed by rowdy teens and was boarded up, making the comfy little studio look abandoned and useless, and Lily didn't have enough money to get it replaced.

Lily Adams was the owner of the dance studio she named 'Twinkle Toes'. She was in her late twenties to early thirties – no one knew her actual age, because she wouldn't tell anyone – with brown wavy hair and beautiful blue eyes. She'd wanted to be a professional dancer but an ankle injury stopped it all.

After swapping my jeans for shorts and my heavy, clunky runners for proper dancing shoes, I walked out into the main part of the studio – the dance floor. Lily was already there, along with a handful of young girls in bright pink, oversized, and completely adorable tutus, leaping and spinning around like fools whilst Lily laughed and tried to get some order in their movements, grinning from ear to ear. If I were her, I'd be shattered after my dream was crushed, but she seemed to love her life here. That made one of us.

After half an hour of walking around, helping the little girls with their coordination until their parent's arrived; I could finally lie down in the middle of the floor with a low, loud groan, making Lily giggle.

"Tired?" she asked as she wiped sweat from her brown with a small towel.

"Exhausted…" I laughed. "How do all those little girls have so much energy in their tiny bodies?"

Lily shook her head and took a swig from her water bottle. "No clue."

There was a light tinkle of bells as the front door to the dance studio opened. I looked at Lily questioningly, but she just smirked before dancing – no joke – to the entrance hall while I sat and waited. What my dancing instructor came back with was not what I had expected – or rather, _who_ she came back with.

Standing beside Lily was a tall guy, with sexy muscles, a jaw-droppingly handsome face, and he was obviously a dancer. But what stunned me the most was his voice.

"Hello," he smiled kindly at me. "You must be Hazel."

I nearly drooled – a French accent.

_Shoot me now_, I thought.

"U-Uh, yeah," My head nodded jerkily, still in shock, and then I quickly stood, realising I was sitting on the floor with my legs spread in an almost spilt position. I stepped forward when he did and placed the palm of my hand gently against his and his fingers went around my hand, moving it up and down once, letting them linger there for a moment, before releasing me. My skin burned with the memory of his touch. "What's your name?"

A chuckle left his lips, spread in an amused grin.

"I'm Gabriel Adams."

"Adams?" My eyes shot to Lily. "Are you two…?"

Lily was grinning ear to ear. "Hazel, this is my nephew."

My eyes met hers and I saw she knew that I was going to have a long talk with her about keeping amazingly sexy family members a secret – this was unacceptable.

"And," Lily continued. "He's going to be your dancing partner for however long he stays here."

"How long are you staying?" I asked Gabriel, crossing my fingers behind my back as I mentally chanted: _please say forever, please say forever, please say forever!_

Gabriel lifted and dropped his shoulders in a nonchalant shrug. "Not sure yet," he said, scratching his right arm. "Depends on what I think of the place."

"What's your overall impression of the place?" I asked, stepping slightly closer as I noticed Lily inching away, a sly smile on her face, and I resisted the urge to blush – she'd planned this.

"Well…" Gabriel chuckled. "The views are spectacular…" his eyes scanned my body.

Blood gushed into my cheeks before I could stop it and my eyes widened – the most gorgeous French guy I'd ever met had just checked me out and complimented me at the same time… I felt like I was going to pass out.

"Oh…" was my genius answer.

Gabriel was grinning widely – ear to ear, exactly like Lily – exposing his perfectly straight pearly whites, and laughed. "Do you want to dance?"

"What dance?" I inquired, relaxing at the familiar prospect, and walked over to the stereo, crouching down and flipping through the CD folder.

"Can you tango?"

Surprised, I slowly blinked. "Uh…" my brain slowly processed his question. "Oh, yeah, a little, I guess…" my teeth sank into my lower lip as I searched for a tango CD. Finding one that seemed appropriate, I put it in and closed the lid, standing as the machine began to whir, which started singing out a sweet melody.

Gabriel whisked me into the centre of the floor before placing one hand on my waist and the other taking mine, fingers lacing through mine, a devilish smile on his face. My hand slowly rose up and rested on his shoulder as I swallowed nervously and, more embarrassingly, loudly, which only seemed to fuel the raging inferno of his amusement.

Slowly, we began to dance together, feet following the rhythm of the music, the beat seeming to match the pulse I could feel in his shoulder, his chuckle rumbling through him whenever I cursed at my own inability to tango and my dark red cheeks when I stepped on his feet, though it never hurt him because I was light and shoeless.

After a fair few dances, we stopped and I walked over to the sink to drink a glass of water – apparently the studio used to be a small house or something because it had a small kitchen, which helped when you were a teenager coming in from school with a snarling stomach or a throat as dry as the Arabian desert.

As I sipped at the water, I saw Gabriel take off his shoes and begin so spin on the spot the way those male ballet dancers do, which looked almost comical considering he looked like a bullfighter or a fireman or something. It was like watching _Footloose_ all over again, and he was Ren… did that make me his Ariel? No. No, I couldn't think that way. Not only because he was related to my dance instructor, but because of Spencer – I couldn't give up on him when I knew we were so close to being properly together in a monogamist relationship.

"You want anything to drink?" I called out to Gabriel, thanking everything holy that my voice didn't squeak or crack like it used to around Spencer.

"What've you got?"

"Uhmm…" I looked through the fridge. "Water, Coke, Mountain Dew, orange juice, or Milo."

Gabriel's laugh drifted through the doorway and I shivered as delighted tingles ran down my spine – that was the sexiest laugh in the history of sexy laughs. "What in the hell is Milo?"

"It's kind of like chocolate milk." That was the best way I could explain it.

"Water, please."

After pouring a glass, I padded back over and handed it to him. Not wanting to be out staged by his ballet skills, I bent one leg back so it nearly touched my head, whilst balancing on the toes of my other foot, holding the post for a second before standing normally again.

"You're doing that wrong," Gabriel's voice was like honey in my ear – he was so close I could feel heat radiating off of him. "Do that again and I'll show you."

I looked at the mirrored wall and saw that, indeed, he was standing so close behind me that if you didn't look so carefully you could swear he was pressed against me. Taking a step forward so I wouldn't accidently kick him in the face, I did the pose again.

"You're not distributing your balance properly," he told me, and adjusted my leg that was in the air, moving it so my foot was closer to being in line with the centre of my head. "That'll keep you more level. And you're arms?" he moved my arms as well before stepping back to look at my position. "Much better."

A groan left my lips as I returned to just standing and I rubbed my hamstrings. "Ouch…"

"I've heard it's a painful pose." Gabriel smirked. "But you looked beautiful."

The blush returned. "Ah… Thanks, again… but I should probably go. Gotta cook dinner tonight…"

He blinked. "Why would you cook?"

"Because my sister can't?"

Gabriel frowned. "I mean, shouldn't your parents cook?"

I inhaled sharply and stepped back; the look on his face showed that he immediately knew he'd said something he shouldn't have.

"N-Never mind… I'll tell Aunt Lily…"

My head gave a jerky nod and I nearly ran into the bathroom, quickly pulled on my jeans – not caring that my shorts were still on beneath them – and swapped my dancing shoes for my runners. I didn't see Gabriel as I left, and I thought it best as I ran from the dance studio and back home.

* * *

My mind was mush as I stared at the innards of the refrigerator, trying to find something to make for dinner and coming up with nothing. There might've been a lot of different combinations in there that would've made a quick, easy and delicious meal, but all I could think of was Gabriel saying the word 'parents' so easily, as if it were nothing… but he probably had parents, wherever they were.

Shaking my head, I nearly broke the fridge door as I slammed it shut and paced relentlessly back and forth from the far end of the kitchen as far away into the dining room I could go, and then back again, over and over, though it hardly helped my train of thought.

The door opened and then slammed shut, telling me who it was, even if I didn't recognise the click of ridiculously high heels against the wooden floorboards, and, after a second's silence, the balls of feet padding against the linoleum floor of the dining room.

"Evening, Hazel," my older sister of almost exactly twelve months said as she wrapped her arms around me from behind and rested her chin on my shoulder, peering at my face. "Why the long face?" she smiled tiredly at me.

"Nothing, Blare…" I tried to smile back, and she was so exhausted she bought it.

Blare worked at the town's only veterinary clinic, and the whole of Mountain Ridge seemed to have trouble standing upright without injuring an animal, so the place is always busy and it takes hours of waiting just to get an appointment. She was an expert on canines (dogs), which, unfortunately for her, meant she was almost constantly on her feet, but that also meant more pay, which was why she didn't just quit whenever she nearly passed out from sleep deprivation.

"What's for dinner…?" she asked as she slumped into a dining chair.

"I don't know – I'm tossing between Chinese or pizza. What do you want?"

She blinked up at me. "Okay, now I know there's something wrong…" she tried to sit up straight and assume a serious face, but she just ended up sliding back down. "You love cooking."

Unfortunately, my sister wasn't wrong; cooking was the relaxing end to my day when dancing wasn't good enough, and I've been told by everyone that's ever tasted my food that I was an excellent chef, which made me want to cook even more. But Gabriel's words had felt like a stab to the stomach and I just couldn't deal with preparing edible food.

"I just don't feel up to it, Blare…" unable to meet her eyes I fiddled with the fraying hem of my shirt – it was an old one which I only wore when I needed comfort. It'd been our mother's. "Now choose; Chinese or pizza?"

Blare looked like she wanted to get to the root of my personal troubles, but knew that if I was given time and space to breathe and calm myself down before I would spill out all my horror tales to her or anyone else that was close enough to me that I could confide in.

"Pizza, please…" she sighed and slowly pulled herself from the chair. "I'll go have a shower."

I grabbed her hand before she turned and gave her a soft but firm hug. "Blare, go have a nice, long bath – use all the bath salts and body gels for all I care, just relax and pamper yourself for once. Okay?"

Our eyes met, brown to brown, sister to sister. A resigned sigh left her lips and she nodded. "Alright, then..."

"You want a meatlovers pizza, right?"

"Yeah…" Blare smiled. "You never forget, do you?"

"Never…" I sighed as she kissed my cheek and watched as she walked upstairs.

_I never forget…_ I thought as I leaned against the kitchen bench. _Ever._


	2. Roses

Chapter Two

Icy sludge flew in all directions as I spun in one spot on my toes before falling back onto my heels with a sigh. I went to rake a hand through my short curls but stopped when I realised I was still wearing a burette, so instead I bit my lip before trying it another time, attempting once more to hold the pose, failing again.

"Damn…" I muttered and placed my hands on my hips.

"You know, that burette is totally hot on you…"

My head fell down so my chin hit my chest softly without causing me any pain and I grinned before straightening and turning around, seeing Josh standing at the back door, wearing a black parka with two steaming mugs in his hands, his nose and cheeks tinted a soft red-pink.

"Hot chocolate?" he lifted the mug in his right hand, offering it's irresistibly heated contents to me.

"Please!" I ran across the back yard, almost slipping a few times before I closed the door to the observatory – a room out the back made of glass to observe the outside world while staying at the perfect temperature – and took the mug carefully in my mitten covered hands. The hot liquid burned my tongue and the roof of my mouth, but I continued to sip, eager to let the heat seep through my body.

"Your lips are blue…" Josh chuckled over his mug.

"Your scarf looks more expensive than mine." I shot back, not knowing how that was relevant, but it made Josh grin anyway.

"Where's Blare?"

"At the vets," I scowled into my mug. "She left at _four_ in the morning! She only got six hours sleep! She's going to run herself into the ground!"'

"Sit," Jake ordered, and I did so after placing my hot chocolate down on the coaster on the coffee table – my hands were beginning to burn beneath my mittens. The sofa was cold beneath me and I leaned slightly towards the left as Jake sat down, his weight allowing him to sink down. "Blare is doing what she likes to do; work with animals. They'll relax her after a while – she's just in the early stages of the job, and they're testing her out, seeing how reliable she is."

I huffed and scowled at him. "I hate it when you're being reasonable, but, then again, it's better than your usual annoying, sarcastic, egotistical self."

"Love you too, Elle." He grinned at me.

I smacked his arm and he faked a hurt look.

* * *

"Shut up, you." I told him.

Silence rang through Twinkle Toes, broken only by the soft thuds of my feet against the polished wooded floorboards. It was comforting in some strange way, like the whole place was mine, for however short a time that was.

Since I had no need to change – I'd walked to the studio in my dancing attire – I simply placed my bag on the floor and began stretching my legs on the bars set up against the mirrored wall like in most stereotypical ballet studios.

After being completely stretched out and prepared for dance, I just stood in the middle of the floor and stared at my reflection. What was it that people saw in me, and what did I see in myself?

When I looked at myself, I saw a near eighteen year old young woman, with short brown curls, brown eyes, smooth skin, flat stomach, thin limbs and barely noticeable breasts. Josh and Spencer were always telling me that I was beautiful, like a goddess, blah, blah, blah. I never really understood what it was; maybe I was biased because I'd always seen myself in the mirror.

I hadn't realised I'd been dancing until I was once again standing motionless and in the reflection of the glass I could see Lily standing in the opening beside Gabriel, clapping her hands slowly while he just stood there gobsmacked.

"What…?" I asked sheepishly as I wrapped my arms around myself.

"That was amazing…" Lily whispered and all Gabriel seemed to be able to manage was a slow nod.

"I didn't even know I was doing anything…" I mumbled and ruffled my curls before going back to my bag. "Maybe should just go…"

"No!" Lily leapt over to me as gracefully as a swan gliding across a lake and crouched beside me. "No, Hazel, that was _stunning_! I've never see anyone dance like that!"

"But I didn't even know I was dancing…" Had I already said that? Probably. It sure felt like I'd been dancing though – my face was heated, I was sweating, my toes were burning and my limbs were shaking.

"That was… awesome…" Gabriel mumbled as he sat down beside me, crossing his legs elegantly. "I agree with Aunt Lily when she said that never seen anyone who can dance like that…"

My teeth sank into my lower lip once more as I stared at Gabriel. "You _really_ mean that…?"

"Most definitely." He smiled from ear to ear in that strange way both of them seemed to – was it in the Adam's genes to grin so widely it appeared the skin on their faces was about to tear apart from being over-stretched?

That sent me speechless – Gabriel seemed like the type to stand still, looking absolutely gorgeous, and expect teenage girls to race over to him, tripping, pulling and punching each other as they fought to get to him first so they could fawn all over him, blurting out as many compliments they could before they were pushed away and the next girl began the cycle.

"Well, umm…" I cleared my throat before standing, looking down as Lily and Gabriel rose with me. "I should go and get some lunch…"

"Do you want me to come with you?"

"That would probably be –"

"Great!" Lily beamed in delight and began to literally push us out the door. "Go on, you too! I'll even pay!" she reached for her wallet.

"No, Aunt Lil, I can get it."

"Do I get any say in this?" I demanded.

"No," they both answered before continuing to squabble over who would be paying for my food, so I just turned and walked out, hurrying down the street, trying to get as much ground between myself and the Adam duo as possible.

I'd almost made it to the end of the block before I heard feet jogging after me. I could barely even mentally groan before Gabriel was leaping in front of me, effectively stopping me mid-stride and I barely avoided colliding into his barrel of a chest.

"What was the whole running away thing for?" he asked, not even slightly out of breath from running after me.

"Well, I was kind of getting sick of you two fighting over me when I didn't even have a choice in the matter – and I have more than enough money to buy my own lunch, thank you very much."

Gabriel blinked, momentarily stunned – of course, someone as beautiful as him wouldn't be accustomed to being turned down – but he took it in his own amazingly long stride and gave me a sexy, dazzling smile.

"I never said you couldn't afford your own food," he reminded me. "What I merely said was that I wanted to pay for your lunch."

My lips turned down into a scowl and I placed my hands on my hips. "If you're paying, we're going somewhere expensive."

A smirk slowly spread across Gabriel's amazingly kissable lips and his eyes sparkled as his arms crossed over his chest, and even though he looked playful I felt a little intimidating for a moment. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

* * *

With my stomach full and my mouth tingling with the memory of the most fantastic food I've ever tasted, I stared in Gabriel in shock as he dabbed the sides of his mouth with a napkin, looking totally full of himself as if he'd made the food.

"You enjoy that, Hazel?" he asked even though he already knew my answer.

I stared at my plate, mentally demanding more delicious food to appear on it even though I'd probably throw up if I tried to eat any more – I couldn't even remember what we'd been eating, but I definitely wanted to know how to make it, although I was almost completely sure I wouldn't be able to replicate it perfectly.

"Oh, my God…" I groaned, sinking deeper into the irresistibly comfortable chair. "I'm never leaving this place… ever…"

Gabriel raised an eyebrow, grinning from ear to ear once again. "Is it really that good?"

"Even if it wasn't, I'd stay here just so I wouldn't have to cook again…"

He chuckled, and then paused as if realising something - it only took me a second to realise what he was remembering; yesterday, when he'd asked me why my parent's didn't cook for me. Tears began to burn in my eyes and straightened.

"Uh…" I bit my lip. "M-Maybe I should g-g-go…" Scraping my chair back, I began to rise.

"Please, Hazel," Gabriel reached across the table and placed his stupidly oversized hand over mine, trapping me there – I briefly considered chewing off my own wrist just so he wouldn't see me cry. "I'm sorry… please don't leave again…" he chewed on his lower lip. "I keep screwing this up, don't I…?"

"No…" I sat down again and turned my hand over so I could wrap my fingers around his wrists, and he returned the gesture with a tiny smile. "It's just that I'm kind of sensitive on this subject…"

"Well, then let's talk about something else," Gabriel's small smile widened. "What do you like to do?" he then blinked, before adding. "I mean, other than dancing."

"I like art," A smile threatened to spread my lips when I saw the look of surprise on his face. "Like painting, charcoal, stuff like that. Sometimes even clay."

"Clay? Isn't that awfully dirty?"

I laughed, for the first time in what seemed like a long time. "Well, clay is a kind of dirt, so yes." There was no stopping the smirk on my face.

"Ha-ha," he answered flatly. "You know that's not what I meant."

"I know…" I giggled. "I just wanted to be the smart-ass for once."

Gabriel tilted his head. "You know what I don't understand about you, Hazel?" when I didn't answer, he continued. "Why you don't have a boyfriend… or even a girlfriend, if you swing that way."

A blush burned my cheeks. "I don't 'swing that way'. And I have a boyfriend…" then I made a face. "Sort of."

The look of the purest confusion crossed his face. "You 'sort of' have a boyfriend? How does that work?"

"You see-" I began, but then my eyes widened when I looked past his shoulder out to the front window, where Spencer was standing, his eyes narrowed, face reddening with anger, and his hands curling into fists as he glared daggers at Gabriel's fingers around my wrist and my fingers around his. "Oh, God, no."

"What?" Gabriel turned around as Spencer came storming in, the front door slamming against the wall, making the maître d' jump and give a small squeak of alarm as he stormed over to us. I quickly released Gabriel's face as my 'sort of' boyfriend's face grew redder and redder.

"What the hell is this, Hazel?" he nearly screamed and I jumped, tears beginning to grow in my eyes.

"Hey, don't you yell at her!" Gabriel stood up and glared down at Spencer – he was a full head taller, and any other time I would've thought the height difference was comical.

"Don't you tell me what to do, prick!"

"Who are you, anyway?" he growled, getting angry himself.

"I'm her _boyfriend_!"

Abruptly, I stood, the chair falling backwards and banging against the wall loudly. The whole restaurant had gone quiet – even the soft background music had been muted.

"No, you're not!" I screamed, making both the boys look at me in shock. "You're just a man-slut who's been using me for almost two years, and I'm over it!" I slapped him hard in the cheek. For good measure, I threw my glass of water into Spencer's face before running out of the restaurant and down the street, not stopping, just wanting to get away.

I ran all the way home and no one followed me – so hard was the pain that I kept running, not knowing where I was going until I was in Josh's arms on his front porch, sobbing into his chest and clutching the fabric of his shirt. My heart was thundering painfully in my chest from the run and I could barely breathe – I felt like I was having a heart attack, and the pain wasn't stopping. He might've said something, but if he did I didn't hear it – all I could hear was my own sobs in my throat, shaking my whole body until I went completely numb.

* * *

Somehow, I woke up in a familiar bed, but not so familiar that it was immediately recognisable, so it wasn't my own. I stared around for a few minutes before I finally realised that it was Josh's bedroom that I'd been sleeping in.

Lying on the pillow beside me was a hairbrush, a rose, a small chocolate like the kind you get in hotels and a note. I couldn't resist giving the rose a sniff – the scent of it was exquisite – before I read the note as I nibbled on the chocolate; it was peppermint, my favourite.

_You were really upset and mumbling some stuff about Spencer and some dude named Gabriel – I didn't really know what to do, and then you passed out, so I just figured you could sleep it out in my bed; and don't stress, I called Blare, so she knows where you are. When you wake up, come downstairs – I've made dinner._

_Josh_

_P.S. The hairbrush is because you always look like you've been through a hurricane when you wake up._

I couldn't help a small smile – Josh knew so much about me, even the stuff I didn't want him to, like how my hair looked in the morning. Grabbing the brush, I went into his en suite bathroom and began to brush the stubborn knots from my curls as I sucked on the chocolate into my mouth until it dissolved into nothing but a tasty memory.

Opening the medicine cabinet, I pulled out a small bag from where it was sitting on the bottom shelf and pulled out my makeup and began applying; somewhere along the line of our friendship, Josh got sick of me always complaining that I forgot my cosmetics when I came over to his place, emergency or not, so he took me out and let me pick out some stuff that I could keep at his house for when I came over, which was a great idea, and it made me feel stupid that I hadn't thought of it first.

After I decided I looked part-way decent, I straightened out my dress-and-legging combo that I usually danced in and exited Josh's room, heading for the staircase as I walked down the hall. My steps were uncharacteristically slow and I sighed in relief as I got to the bottom – I had a fear of stairs, since I had a high chance of falling down them, which is strange for someone who's ambition requires them to be amazingly graceful, elegant, and most importantly, balanced.

"Elle?" I heard Josh call out as I heard something simmering and spitting in the kitchen.

"Yeah," As soon as I entered the room, I was fighting off laughter. "What in the hell are you wearing?" I demanded.

Josh turned around and struck a model pose; lips puckered, hands behind his head and his hips dropped to the left, giving me a perfect view of his tall chef's hat and flower print apron, and I had to give him credit for not looking embarrassed because he looked like a total idiot.

"Come on…" he whined. "I'm only wearing this so you'll laugh." He pouted.

For a moment I just had to stare at him before the giggles began bubbling in my throat and pouring from my lips. The more I tried to stop, the harder I laughed, but before long I was crying, but I was pretty sure it wasn't the good kind of crying.

Josh seemed to understand because his arms were around me, and I pressed my face into his neck, trying to stop the tears and failing miserably. Something in me seemed to have snapped, but it seemed that my best friend wasn't going to let me sit and sulk.

"Come on, Elle…" Josh pulled back and used his index finger to coax my chin up, meeting my eyes, a small smile on his lips. "I made you crumbed chicken."

A small laugh escaped my mouth and I stopped it before I would start crying again. "How could you possibly remember that? I told you that, like, a year ago."

"I pay attention to the little things." He grinned, taking my hand and led me into the dining room. There were even more roses, a whole bouquet of them sitting radiantly in a black glass vase, and there were a few rose petals scattered on the napkins beside the two plates.

"Did you also pay attention when I told you my favourite flower was the rose?"

Josh blinked a few times before turning as red as the roses. "O-Oh… no… I just did it as a kind of a joke, you know, because your name is Hazel Rose Wolfe…?"

Again, I stared at him before bursting into laughter and then tears, but that time the tears were tears of humour. The tears fell and my whole body shook with giggles as Josh stood there, shifting his weight from foot to foot, his whole face burning with embarrassment.

"Oh… My… God…" I managed around my laughs, but when I couldn't get out any more intelligible words, I had to settle for giving Josh a tight hug. And then, when I thought it wasn't possible, that there wasn't the slightest chance that my life could get any more complicated…

… our lips met.

For a moment we both just stood there, in each other's arms, lips still, before they started moving together and my fingers wound into his hair while his hands caressed my hips. A low sound escaped his mouth and a moment later a similar sound emanated from me.

Thank god the smoke alarm went off.

"Oh, God, the chicken!" Josh cried and pulled away from me, racing into the kitchen.

I managed to pull out a chair in time before I collapsed into it and buried my face in my hands, sucking slow deep breaths into my nostrils and exhaling out through my mouth. What in the world had I done? I didn't need this, not when I was still in love with Spencer even though he wasn't really even mine, plus he acted like a total asshole, and I had no idea how I felt about Gabriel – now I had Josh shoved on my already heaping plate.

The smell of burnt food snapped me from my thought and I waved my hand in front of my face in an attempt to get some fresh air; my friend instincts told me to go into the kitchen to help Josh save dinner, but I couldn't force myself out of the chair. A voice in my head whispered words to me that I didn't want to hear, but I had no choice to listen – it wasn't like I could get rid of an imaginary person in my brain… maybe I was losing my mind? At the moment, it didn't seem like such a bad thing. Insanity, amnesia, they were beginning to sound like viable options against what my life was becoming. Like overcooked pasta, my life was a tangled, mushy mess, stuck to the bottom of a pot full of boiling water, beginning to burn.

_What is wrong with you, Hazel? _I thought to myself, _you're just average – so why are you juggling _three_ completely different guys?_

I honestly had no idea.

Josh had managed to save the chicken, even though the bottom was a bit blackened – if you didn't look underneath when you ate it and had some of the mashed potato at the same time, it was near impossible to tell the underside was singed… other than the smoky smell.

We hardly spoke as we ate, only saying a few words, commenting on how delicious the meal was despite the previous mishap. He even managed to make a weak joke that I would have done a much better job with the food, and I think we were both a little shocked that I cracked a smile.

After we both finished, we just sat there; Josh stared at his empty plate and I gazed thoughtfully at the roses. Not only were they a sweet gesture, but they seemed kind of… romantic… maybe even intimate.

Had Josh wanted this? Had he wanted the kiss, the embrace? But the bigger question was… had I?

* * *

Frost covered everything; the trees, shrubs, grass, flowers, the buildings, the sidewalks, and the roads – it was so early in the morning that the snow ploughs hadn't come through yet; about two a.m.

I'd left a note on Josh's bedside table, thanking him for dinner and apologising for how awkwardly I'd acted after the kiss, and that I waited until he fell asleep on the couch before I left. Just before I made my grand exit, I left the rose he'd left on the pillow on top of the note, and for a little extra flair I'd put on a few extra layers of 'ruby red' lipstick and kissed the paper, leaving a perfect picture of my lips – they looked better there than they did on my face.

Snowflakes danced through the air – a lot caught in my curls and stuck in my eyelashes. My bag bounced and hit my right hip repeatedly as I walked and gladly I had brought my thickest jumper and my burette – the only thing I'd forgotten to bring was my scarf, but when I lifted my collar it worked almost as well.

In the alley, two large eyes blinked slowly at me. My steps immediately paused and I gazed into the black empty space before a completely black cat slid from the darkness, sauntering over to me; its movements were as slow and perfect as water running down a river.

The cat did a few figure eights between my legs, purring as it rubbed itself against my ankles, and then peered up at me with exquisite jade green eyes, giving a feeble meow. I crouched down and slowly reached out, stroking the cat's fur; it was rough, tangled, and some parts were caked together with what I suspected was blood – or maybe someone's urine.

"Aww, poor baby…" I cooed as I scooped up the cat, which didn't put up a fuss at all. As my fingers felt over the feline for any possible injuries, I realised how thin the unfortunate cat really was – it felt like the bones were about to tear through the skin. "Oh, honey…" I kissed its cheek before checking what the gender was. "So you're a pretty girl… I'll call you Onyx, because it's a fancy way for saying black – oh, that sounded racist…" I bit my lip.

Onyx blinked up at me with those stunning green eyes of hers, and she looked like she was trying to impersonate 'Puss in Boots', because her pupils were so hugely dilated. She purred and burrowed her face into my neck, and then I squealed as she dived into my jumper, searching desperately for warmth, and maybe even some food.

"Jeez…" I blinked as her head popped up, peeking curiously at the outdoor world as if she were a kitten who had never been outside. A small smile tilted up the corner of my lips and I continued walking, heading for home.

_Hopefully Blare will be awake so she can give Onyx a quick check-up,_ I thought as I feed said cat tidbits of the crumbed chicken I'd wrapped in plastic for later. She nearly bit my fingers off the first few times I tried to feed her before she calmed down and gently plucked the offerings from me, but continued to simply swallowing, not caring much for chewing, apparently.

When I got home, Blare _was_ up; she was sitting on a dining room chair, arms crossed over her chest, eyes narrowed – I honestly hadn't expected her to be awake, seeing as it was so late, and she looked mighty angry, her cheeks flushed red, and not from the cold. I swallowed at the sight, not because I was afraid of her, but because it reminded me of Spencer's reaction to Gabriel and I having lunch together.

"What," Blare growled, "In the hell do you think you're doing walking around this late at night, especially on your own?"

"I wasn't exactly alone…" I pulled Onyx from my jumper, which was no easy feat – she had almost been asleep, and was grumpy for being so suddenly and brutally awoken. "I had company."

Blare gasped, her anger immediately evaporating as she set her eyes on my new pet, and shot up, coming over to us. Her eyes widened when she held the cat and she found out for herself how thin the poor animal was.

"She's skin and bone!" she cried before looking at me. "Where'd you find her?"

My shoulders lifted and fell in a shrug. "I was walking past an alley and she came over to me." Was by best explanation of the whole subject.

"What happened to your fingers?"

Confused, I looked at my fingers, and then blinked at the damage the cat had caused – my middle and index fingers were bleeding, as well as my thumb.

"Oh," A short laugh burst from my lips, gone as quickly as it had escaped. "I fed some chicken to her, but she was a bit greedy."

"You might need a tetanus shot for that…" Blare scowled.

"Eh…" I shrugged again. "Maybe later… listen, is there anything wrong with Onyx?" then I sighed at her confused look and clarified. "That's what I named the cat – it means black."

"Ah…" she nodded and checked over the feline. "She's probably dehydrated and undernourished – she'll need to stay at the clinic for a few days, but I think she'll pull through," her dark eyes, mirror images of my own, flicked up to meet my gaze. "But if you want to keep her, you'll have to feed her, take care of her, and keep her company – understand?"

"Sure… her, can you tell how old she is?"

Blare turned and placed Onyx on the table – with her back obscuring the view, I couldn't see what she was doing to determine the age of my new feline friend.

"I'd say…" my sister said as she turned and placed the cat in my arms on her back, where she almost immediately fell asleep again. "Three to five years old."

"Practically a baby." I smiled.

"She'll shit like one too…" Blare headed up the stairs.

I shook my head in amusement and looked down at Onyx as she dosed off.

"Maybe you should buy some nappies." The snide comment was followed by the closing of my sister's bedroom door.

Rolling my eyes, I slowly ascended the steps, still gazing down at my new pet; she was completely at ease and relaxed in my arms, trusting me completely having known me all of half an hour, and I was pretty sure I already loved her, too.

It seems that my heart couldn't make up who its love was devoted too.


	3. Cowardice

Chapter Three

For the first time in a long time, I didn't want to go to school on a Wednesday; every third day of the week is all art programs for me, which were the best not only because I got to draw and paint all day, but there was only one or two tests per year, which were about old artists – easily copied and pasted from the Internet.

But the reason I was hiding beneath my covers was because I didn't want to face either Josh or Spencer; they were both in my classes on a Wednesday – not the same one, thank God – and with all that'd happened the previous day, I couldn't handle it.

So I stayed there, cuddled up under my freshly cleaned purple duvet with my new cat, Onyx, and she was burrowed into my neck, purring loudly; I could've sworn she was snoring. I wished I could sleep as easily as she could, that I was simply a feline that didn't have to worry about three separate boys that all hate each other's guts – I wished I could just sleep out the day and then tear through the house at night like I was being chased by a bulldog.

There was no way for Blare to know I was skipping school – she'd had to go in early again, before I'd woken up, and she'd just so happened to forget her mobile, so when the school rang to ask for my whereabouts there would be no answer.

As cowardly as my actions were, I stuck by them, and relaxed as much as I could in bed until my stomach began to gurgle, demanding food. Onyx stirred and blinked twice slowly before glaring at me for disturbing herself and gave a low meow and leapt up onto my window seat, curling up into a ball, soaking up the sunlight with her dark fur.

Rolling my eyes at her antics, I rolled myself to the edge of the bed and heaved myself onto my feet. The floorboards were cold on my bare feet and I shoved my feet into a pair of slippers before shuffling downstairs into the kitchen. Since I hadn't been shopping in a long while, the fridge was nearly empty, but thankfully, there were four crumpets left, which I quickly popped into the toaster; when Blare had saved Spencer's dog's life – the poor thing had been the victim of a hit and run – she'd been paid a five digit figure, because it'd been a four hour surgery, and the Wards were the richest family in the whole town of Mountain Ridge, and with the money we'd had left over from buying the little two story house we lived in, we bought a few luxury kitchen items, such as a toaster that could cook four food items at once.

Sitting alone at the dining room table crunching on a buttered crumpet was a strange way for me to be spending my late morning, and the loneliness was quite annoying. Onyx slinked down the stairs, movements as fluid as water, as per usual. There was barely a thud as she leapt onto the table and slowly crept over to me, sniffing my plate and then looking up at me. Rolling my eyes, I tore a crumpet in half, and then tore the half into tiny pieces, tossing them to the cat as I went until there was no more to tear and I went back to eating my crumpet, watching, amused as she guzzled the pieces down.

"Silly cat…" I murmured as I ran three fingers from her head down to the base of her tail over and over. She flopped down onto her stomach as soon as all the pieces of crumpet were gone and purred loudly, loving my touch. It made me sad that she was so desperate for attention, but I loved delivering it, so it sort of balanced out, right?

Blare had said that she would take my new pet to the vet clinic with her when she left, but the feline had been too stubborn to be taken from my bed and had stayed with me; I could vaguely remember my sister saying she'd take her tomorrow before I'd fallen back to sleep.

I was glad she hadn't taken Onyx – I needed some kind of company, human or feline.

* * *

At one o'clock in the afternoon, I couldn't stand the solitude; a lazy cat and a television weren't sufficient company for me, and I needed to do something physical, so I started to walk to Twinkle Toes.

Since school wasn't yet out, I only saw one or two people from my high school that really should've been learning something instead of sitting in an alley drinking from what appeared to be a large bottle of vodka, only the neck and mouth of a glass bottle visible, or smoking a joint in the park, high above the ground in a tree.

As soon as I opened the door to the studio, I froze. Somehow, though I didn't know how, I knew someone was inside, and my main guess was Gabriel. Sighing, and knowing that I had to face him sooner or later, plus that I had two more guys after him so I may as well get it over with, I walked into the studio.

I paused in the doorway to the dance floor, stunned at what I was seeing. Gabriel was dancing, spinning and leaping in a way that left me gobsmacked – but what made me more stunned, was that those were _my_ moves.

My bag fell from my shoulder and fell to the ground with a heavy _thunk_, making the floor shake, causing the stereo to shake and the music to stall. Gabriel's movements immediately halted and he spun fluidly around to stare at me.

For a long time, I wasn't sure how long; we just stood there, staring at each other as the music continued to play, not knowing that at that moment silence was more appropriate. As if reading my thoughts, Gabriel walked over to the music player and switched it off – the silence rang in my ears.

"I was trying to copy what you did yesterday," he admitted, and I was shocked to see how sheepish he was. "It was amazing, and I'd love to see you dance when you actually know what you're doing."

A small laugh passed through my lips and I shook my head, curls swaying in front of my face, and I pushed them back absently, walking over to him.

"I'm so sor-" I began, but he pressed a single finger to my lips, effectively silencing me.

"You don't need to apologize…" he murmured. "But an explanation would be nice…"

For a second I just stared at him, wondering if I should tell him the truth, but then I realised that he really did deserve to know the truth after how nice he'd been to me and how horrible Spencer had treated him.

"Sit," I ordered as I sat down on the wooden floorboards, crossing my legs beneath me. After a few stunned seconds, Gabriel obeyed, sitting down with me, and he was still much taller than me on the ground. "Where should I start?"

"From all the dramatic chick flicks I've been painfully forced to watch, the beginning is usually the best place to start." He gave me a lopsided smile, a single corner of his lips tilting up – I found myself missing his ear-to-ear grin.

"Well, when I moved here," I began. "I didn't know anyone, which is always embarrassing. My sister had already graduated high school, so she was ready to throw herself head first into veterinary work, and didn't really have any time for me. I met Spencer, and he was really nice to me; showed me around the town, where the best places to get coffee were – he even showed me here. Even though I was really shy and nervous, I asked him out, and he said yes. We really hit it off and went on a few dates… and then he told me that he already had a girlfriend, but he wanted to be my boyfriend…"

Gabriel's eyes widened and he raised his hand, not wanting to interject, but showing me like a true gentleman that he wanted to interrupt, and spoke when I nodded, encouraging him to speak. "He already had a girlfriend when he accepted to go on a date with you?"

"Well…" I bit my lip, but there was no other way to put it. "Yeah."

"That's a real dickhead move."

Shaking my head in amusement, I agreed, but didn't say so, and continued on with my story. "I was ready to get up and leave right then and there, but then Spencer began to explain how much of an angry, unloyal, sarcastic, son of a bitch Candy really was, and how he planned to break up with her soon, but he wanted to ease into it, since they'd been together since they were in year seven. So we continued to go out, and after a week he still hadn't broken up with her – I'd thought it was because of the social pressure, since he's the star football player for the school and she's the head cheerleader; it's only natural for the two to be together, it's like a school hierarchy, and so I didn't intervene.

"Weeks turned to months, and the months turned to a year. I really pissed off then, sick of being so head over heels for him but not being able to tell anyone about our relationship because he didn't want to come off as a man whore, since he'd been sleeping with the both of us," Gabriel raised his hand at that, but I shook my head and continued to tell my tale. "But he told me that he couldn't do it yet, because Candy's parent's had just split up and she was extremely upset; he'd be the biggest asshole in the world if he broke up with her just after her parent's divorced. That was nearly a year ago, and he still hasn't split up with her, and I haven't broken up with him.

"It's like… I have this image in my mind of him and I, finally together, publically, just a normal monogamist relationship, and every time I think of finally ending our relationship, I think of how long I've waited for it to be just us too, and I can't do it…" I gnawed on my lower lip.

Gabriel's hand rose once again and I nodded, allowing him to speak. "So, you slept with him, even though he was with someone else?" he demanded.

Blushing, I nodded. "I know… but I'd felt so ready, and I needed to know if he had the same feelings he had for me as I had for him – and so we did 'it'."

Somehow, a great relief gushed out of me at having told someone the full story – like there'd been a large rock in my chest that I hadn't been aware of, and that talking it out had made it melt and bleed from me, taking the weight with it.

"Wait," Gabriel blinked. "Why aren't you in school?"

That stumped me for a second, and I was surprised that he'd notice; I had almost forgotten, as time had seemed to fly as we'd talked, that I was supposed to be in school as it wasn't half past three yet.

"Oh…" I picked at the frayed hem of my baggy shirt – I only wore it when I felt that I deserved some comforting in the form of my father's old tee that was splattered with paint; apparently he was an aspiring. "I didn't want to face them today…"

"Them?" Gabriel asked, incredulous. "You're with _two _other men?"

I blinked at him. "What do you mean, _other_ men?"

His cheeks suddenly turned dark red and he ducked his head. "N-Nothing…"

My eyes widened and I gasped. "Oh, no!" I shook my head quickly, not wanting to believe it. "You don't like me too, do you?"

He didn't answer, but then again, he didn't have to – his blush had spoken the words for him, and he suddenly found the rips on the knees of his skinny jeans very interesting, pulling at the frayed threads and poking at the exposed skin that covered his knee caps.

"Oh, God…" I groaned, flopping back onto the polished wooden floorboards. "What is _wrong_ with me? Am I emitting a pheromone or something? I'm not funny, I'm not pretty, I'm not that talented, I'm not a social person, I don't have a clique! I don't understand!"

Gabriel stared at me for a long moment. "Have you ever seen a mirror?" he demanded, pulling me into a sitting position and spinning me to face the mirrored wall of the studio. "_Look_ at yourself, Hazel! You're _so beautiful_, you're plenty funny, and you're an amazingly talented dancer, plus, apparently you're a dazzling artist. Being social and being in a clique has no ill effect on you, and if I can say so, you do smell amazing."

Since he was holding me firmly on the shoulders, I had to meet his eyes in the reflection of the glass. "You…" I swallowed, the words seemingly lodged into my throat. "Y-You really think that about me…?"

His chin rested on my shoulder and he smiled shyly at me. "Absolutely, through and through," and then, with a chuckle, he added. "Cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye."

"I used to say 'stick a hundred needles in my eyes'."

"Gruesome."

"Seemed pretty cool when I was seven," I murmured, smiling as I reminisced when I was so innocent, everything was so simple – no puberty and two parents, just the way I liked it. "So were Silly Putty and The Smurfs."

"Ah, The Smurfs," Gabriel chuckled. "The little blue people… Right? Are they purple or something here in America?"

"No, they're blue here too." I grinned, before groaning and slumping back against Gabriel's chest. His hands slid from my shoulders and he wrapped his arms securely around my waist. "I just wish the world was as simple as it was when I could sit down in front of the television in my pyjamas with a bowl of cereal, cuddled up with Blare and watch _The_ _Smurfs_ and _Bratz_…"

"I never watched _Bratz_…" Gabriel chuckled.

My grin returned and I laughed, shaking my head in amusement. "I'm glad you didn't – it's hardly a masculine show."

"What's it about?"

"Four best girl friends that go around talking about fashion – recently, they've become detectives and undercover spies, which I think is stupid; it's not the Bratz I remembered and loved, but oh well."

Gabriel shook his head and pressed his face into my neck, my cheeks heating as he inhaled slowly, as if breathing in my scent… it felt weird to think of myself as having a scent.

"You smell great…" he murmured. "Like some kind of flower…"

I blinked slowly, remembering the dozens of roses Josh must have stripped of their petals and strewn them everywhere – and I felt guilty at leaving without helping him clean them all up. "Roses…?" I asked softly.

He looked up at me in shock before grinning. "Yes! You smell like roses!"

"Good to know…" I mumbled, embarrassed.

It seemed I was digging myself into a hole – and I wasn't getting out of it so much as digging myself deeper.

* * *

Though I looked silly as I sat on my bed, fully clothed in winter attire, deliberating whether or not I could handle school, I couldn't bring myself to move. Even Onyx had given up on giving a pat after five minutes of rubbing her body against my arms and purring loudly – she was now curled up on one of my pillows, the tip of her tail slowly rising and falling in content. I envied her relaxation; how was it fair that animals never had to worry about the opposite sex and all those other stupid trivial factors of human life.

"I've got to do this…" I groaned and hoisted myself to my feet, spinning around to look at Onyx as she blinked blearily at me. "I have to stop hiding in my room and face my fate… and kick it between the legs if I must."

My cat looked vaguely amused.

Resisting the urge to throw something at her, I grabbed my shoulder bag and went downstairs before walking across the street and standing at the bus stop just as I saw it coming up the road. I ran a hand through my curls as I waited and bounced slightly, trying to retain my body heat.

The old bus with its peeling yellow paint rolled over to the side of the road, air breaks hissing as it halted and the door groaning as it swung slowly open. I stepped inside and handed a dollar to the driver, who looked as aged as the vehicle he drove, and sat near the back in an empty seat. Only younger kids took the bus, since the car prices were so low in Mountain Ridge that if you saved up for six months you could afford a car as soon as you were roadworthy.

I leaned my cheek against the chilly window and watched as the black asphalt road sped by beneath me, idly wondering in the back of my mind how many cars crossed that very road every day; I didn't think a lot, since it wasn't anywhere near any major roads or the highway, and wasn't close to the centre of town.

Since it was later than I expected, I had to half-run to my locker as the bell rang. Once I got there, I spun the dial as fast as I could, yanking open the metal door and shoving my bag in before quickly sifting through, trying to find my things. When I closed the locker, I paused and closed my eyes, as if expecting Spencer to spin me around and kiss me like he had just a few days ago – but things had changed, and I was fairly sure it wasn't for the better.

Heading for class, I was bumped and shoved between students, but that wasn't different to any day – it always seemed to be a race to see who could get to their lesson first, as if someone were timing and tracking us. I never really seemed to get it, but then again, I didn't really fit into any clique or club; I was just me. There was no club for juggling three guys at once, one of them already taken by the richest, most popular and influential girl in town.

Someone gave me a final shove as I entered the classroom, causing me to stumble in and blush when all eyes turned to me. Josh's eyes widened when he saw me, standing in front of the easel which held the charcoal self portrait of himself on top of a pile of money, sitting on a throne with a crown on his head, and next to his was a lone easel that had an unfinished bird soaring majestically through the sky. Had it only been Monday that I had been standing beside Josh, laughing with him as we teased each other about our names…?

Hanging my bag up on its allocated hook, I slowly headed over to my easel, not knowing whether or not to look at Josh or not. He didn't speak to me, just slowly moved his stick of charcoal across the canvas.

Focusing on my work, I stared at the bird; it was a large, proud eagle, slicing through the sky like a knife through warm butter, majestic and aerodynamic, not a care in the world. With a sigh, I picked up my own piece of charcoal and began etching out a rough, light outline of the clouds behind the magnificent hunter, adding the trees and the grass – I even added a little mouse running away from it.

Josh spun and went to the far corner of the room, and my chest panged before I realised that he'd gone to get some dry colour pastels for his drawing. He didn't speak as our eyes locked for a moment and then he turned away back to the canvas.

Not able to take the silence any longer, I stepped so I was behind him and wrapped my arms around him, burrowing my face between his shoulder blades. I felt his sharp intake of breath beneath my fingers before he relaxed and I kissed the material of his shirt.

"I'm sorry…" I mumbled into the fabric – it was a back and red checked shirt, covering a white singlet; I'd picked that outfit out for him a few months ago when I'd brought him shopping after he wrecked almost all of my clothes during a prank.

"Where were you on Wednesday…?"

"Hiding…" I sighed. "Being a complete and total coward… talking to my cat like a crazy lady…"

Josh slowly turned around and blinked at me a few times. "You have a cat?"

I laughed a little, my arms still around him. "As of Tuesday night."

"So, you just spontaneously decided to get a cat?"

"I didn't just decide, Josh; when I was walking home, I found her, nearly starved to death in an alley – well, she found me."

He didn't look any less confused, but nodded anyway – that was something that I'd always admired about him; even if he didn't understand, he went along with it as if he did, hoping he'd get it later.

"I'm sorry I messed things up so much…" I mumbled, resting my temple against his chest, feeling the soft, rhythmic thump of his heart. His breath washed across my scalp as he kissed my hair and for a second, I felt totally and completely at ease, as if nothing could touch me.

And then the teacher, Mrs Reeves, tapped me on the shoulder with her cold metal metre ruler.

"Ms Wolfe, save your cuddling for after class, please. Your canvas still looks a little blank." She smirked, as if triumphed to ruin the moment Josh and I'd been having, and stomped off to the next easel to terrorise another student. If she wasn't such a wonderful artist and instructor when she wanted to be, I would've quit the class months ago.

"Bitch," Josh muttered after her before looking at me with a cheeky grin, and I knew in that second that we'd silently made up. I stood up on my toes and, after meeting his eyes for a moment, pecked his lips for barely enough time, dancing away when he registered what was happening and winking at him before skipping over to my easel. I grinned at him as I picked up my charcoal stick, and he just stared at me in shock.

Leading him on or not, I knew I had feelings for him… and if Spencer could kiss another person of the opposite sex, why couldn't I?

* * *

After missing the bus because I'd had to answer the call of nature after school, and knowing that Blare had to work late again, I was reduced to walking home. Sure, I could've texted Josh and he'd come running like a loyal golden retriever, but I didn't want to lead him on any more than I already had.

A loud honk blasted through the silence I'd become accustomed to and a small scream left my lips as I spun around, expecting to see a runaway car about to run me over. But all I saw was Spencer pulling his bright red convertible over to the curb beside me, a smirk on his lips. His womanising smile, the one I knew all too well – it'd been one of the first things I'd noticed and liked about him.

"Hey, there, Hazel," he dipped his head as he looked at me, peering over his sunglasses like the stud he knew he was. "Get in – we're going over to my place."

For a long moment, I was stunned. I'd never been to Spencer's house before, though he'd had hundreds of parties there in the past two years when I was resident in the same town as him – he'd told me it was too risky for me to show up at one of his parties, where only the elite of the elite high school students and their close relatives attended; it'd felt like a glass bottle to the face, but I'd simply nodded and walked away, hoping he hadn't seen the tears forming in my eyes.

"Of course," he added, blissfully unaware of my inner thoughts. "We'll have to go shopping first."

"Why?"

"Because you can't come over in _those_ clothes." He spat the word like poison, scowling at my wardrobe choice.

I wanted to scream at him that I didn't have a few hundred dollars sitting around to go shop where models liked to go and that cutting edge fashion wasn't something I strived to obtain, but there was something about Spencer that I couldn't be mad at, and my fizzling anger sizzled away in a puff of smoke.

"Fine…" after checking that there was no one around to see, I slipped into the passenger side of his car. No sooner had I shut my door that he was speeding off, and I swallowed a scream, quickly snapping on my seatbelt so I could grip onto the seat for dear life. The roof was down, so wind whipped at my hair and seemed to push back the skin on my face.

"AAAAH!"

Spencer grinned widely and whooped happily, his hair flapping in the wind; he really _did_ look like a movie star. "Yeah!" he cried into the wind before pressing the accelerator down to the floor.

My arms ached after sixty seconds of holding the many shopping bags full of new clothing that my sort-of boyfriend had purchased for me. He had bought himself a new cap, which was placed backwards on his head, a relaxed grin on his face.

_That cap won't last three seconds if he guns the car on the way back the same way he did coming here…_ I thought as we walked – I had to carry seven on one arm and six on the other. They all had bold designer labels on them, and I was having difficulty seeing the obstacles in my way since I had thick, dark sunglasses on that cost almost a thousand dollars. It was madness – I didn't know how Spencer could get away with such spending.

"I once spent nearly a million dollars on stuff and all I got was a scolding." He'd bragged, and I'd nearly fainted. I'd always envied the people on Deal Or No Deal, when they stood there with loads of money at their feet – and how unbelievably greedy they could be, turning down $20,000 as if it were 20 cents; ridiculous. But a _million_ dollars on just 'stuff'? That's insanity!

Spencer helped me load my haul into the surprisingly spacious boot of his boot, and I sagged down into the leather seats, which were amazingly comfortable. He seemed to see that my energy was spent and drove me back home at a much more normal speed – he was only five or so k's over the speed limit. Reaching out, I plucked his hand off of the steering wheel and held it between both of mine with a yawn.

"Love you, Hazel…" I could vaguely hear him say before I drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Sleep gradually slipped away from me so that when I awoke, I was still completely relaxed unlike when I was forced awake by an alarm – jolted violently from my dreams, which made my heart pound and was a completely horrible way to wake up.

When I looked at my alarm clock, green flashing numbers told me it was eight fifteen, and then I heard a soft snore, which definitely wasn't from Onyx. Turning over, I gasped when I saw Spencer asleep beside me, a hand cupped under his cheek as he slept while the other lying on his waist. He looked so peaceful and sweat that I took a photo of him on my phone before just watching him.

He slept for another fifteen minutes before his eyes slowly drifted open and he blinked at me before sitting bolt upright. "Oh shit!" he looked around for his jacket.

I sat up to, staring at him in shock. "Spence? Spencer, what's wrong?" I grabbed his hand when he passed me, forcing him to stop.

"I have to pick up Candy – we're going out for dinner with my parents."

My jaw dropped and I recoiled as if he'd slapped me or said something harsh. My heart felt like it'd just been dropped into the icy black seas of the North Pole and hurt blazed through my veins like fire.

Spencer didn't notice and finally found his jacket. He leaned in for a quick departure peck, but I completely shocked him by slapping him as hard as I could across the face.

"You rat bastard!" I punched him in the chest, which hurt like hell, but he went down like a sack of potatoes. "You're never leaving her, are you? As if you would, when your parents are so happy that you're dating the richest, most popular girl in Mountain Ridge! What am I to you, Spencer? I'm like the salad beside the chicken parmesan – you pick out your favourite bits, but leave the rest on the plate for the waitress to scrape off in the rubbish bin! I'm over being second best! Now get the _fuck_ out of my house!" I kicked him in the ribs and he didn't hesitate, scrambling out of my room as fast as he could.

It wasn't long before I heard the engine in his car revving, the squeal of his tyres as he sped backwards out of the driveway, and the roar of the vehicle as it raced down the street. My knees trembled, and suddenly the weight of the whole world seemed to be on my shoulders and I collapsed to the ground, crumpling into a sobbing mess.

All I had for comfort was my cat.


End file.
